The Apostle's Burning Heart
by DancerFromTheDance
Summary: Slight AU. My take on Mikami and the intensity of his idolatry for Kira. Rated T for some slight sexual content


A/N: Rated T for some slight sexual content. This story is my take on Mikami and the intensity of his idolatry for Kira.

This story is slightly AU.

The poetry at the end is a sonnet from the third chapter of _La Vita Nuova_ by Dante Alighieri.

Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright to Death Note. Also, since I'm not proficiently educated on copyrights, I do not own the rights to any of the writing by Dante Alighieri.

Whenever I see him, I start gushing forth with love and worship.

The first time I saw him, I was the guest speaker for a course on Law. I am considered the best at such a task, and I have never seen a person, young or aged, grasp a subject so fully and easily as he did.

But he did not take to world Law, he took to personal Law. He spoke with conviction of who was truly the criminal and who the victim in society. He spoke as if he were a God, calling his Law supreme over anything mortals could conjure. He looked with a God's pity at the meek and timid persons around him, and he protected them with a God's might from the broods of vipers.

But in return, he demanded the obedience of the protected, in the form of social standing among them and in domination over their actions. If one of these 'subjects' failed to comply with these demands he set out, they'd be tossed like filthy rags to the gutters, where those who prey find refuge.

I next saw him at the Japanese Police Force headquarters, where I had arranged a meeting with his father. Yagami Soichiro, and I handled the search and subsequent trial of a serial murderer together, and it was at this meeting that I learned my God's name, Yagami Raito.

He sat in the chair directly besides me, in his fathers intimidating but very cheap office. He was only allowed into this session on the pledge that he kept all information traded a secret. A look of boredom was plastered across his face, as if he might disintegrate if he found the topic any less appealing. He only became perked when we discussed the sentencing to be requested of the judge , life in prison. He asked me with disgust, how I could dare only ask for life imprisonment when the man we spoke of, a Mr. Lind L. Taylor, murdered twenty-two people with a carving knife.

I tried to explain to him, that with Mr. Taylor's severe schizophrenia and other delusional disorders, we could not ask for the death penalty. He'd hear no part of this, arguing that if Mr. Taylor were such a threat to decent human beings, that regardless of mental instability he should be deleted. His father looked both awestruck and curious at such an argument. I felt moved by this personal ideology, and spoke to him, "Yagami-san, as much as I am in agreement with you, I cannot take this to court as my case. Mortal men will strike it down as nonsense, so I must do the best I can in their courts. But in a higher field even they cannot reach, I fully and truly believe in your words."

It was his turn to look awestruck, and a blush crept up from his collar to his cheeks. He quickly regained himself though, and smiled the smile of a pleased God looking down on a favored apostle. I turned to his father then and spoke once more, "I must be leaving, I have plans at the gym." I stood and turned to leave, and as I did so, the younger of the two Yagami's grabbed my wrist. He stood up himself and flashed an innocent smile at his father. "I'll walk Mr. Mikami to his car, I need to get some fresh air for awhile anyway, Dad." He pulled me the door, and past all the secretaries and police, into the elevator. "Did you mean what you said back there?" He asked once the doors were safely closed.

"Of course." I said to him.

He kissed me then, hungrily, with power. I could smell his natural aroma, at once heady and delicate. It left me with a high, and I felt slack-jawed and weak-kneed. He let go of me, saying, "Get up, stand up straight."

We pushed through the building, out the front door, and to a small hotel, cozy and inviting. "I assume you have cash on you?" He said, and I pulled out my credit card. He bought a room and pushed me though it's single hardwood door. I was thrown to the bed and jumped on as if I was prey to be caught or an apostle to be found. He straddled my hips and whispered in my ear, "You like that, don't you?"

"G-god!" I moaned as the friction between my manhood and his godhood increased.

"Say it again, call me that again!" He yelled to me as he removed our clothes.

"God, I love you God! Let me worship you God!" I cried out, signs of ecstasy spilling from my lips.

We made love then, and as in Dante's _La Vita Nuova _my burning heart was eaten. Love and the desire to worship consumed me as it would a worshipper standing in the holy lands. I felt this consumption in every part of my body, the warmth and fullness that is my God's gift.

We continue this ritual today, except now I serve as a confidant in God's plans, no longer just a worshipper. I judge the world on behalf of God now, and I serve him well, for he tells me so. He tells me so on every day we meet, and he makes any demands of his known. He tells me this Takada woman is just a pawn, that she could never be anything more. He's asked me to be the Favored Apostle, the messenger of God to the New World, and I joyfully say yes. Together, he and I shall smite his enemies. We will drive an iron rod through the blasphemous sinners, because they have offended my God.

I will serve my Lord, and I shall obliterate his enemies.

I will do it, for he is my Master, and I love him.

My love for him flows forth for him like an immense rain. It powers the scythe that cuts those who oppose god.

I leave him notes after I leave, for him to find. The last time I was in his presence I left the following:

"To every loving, gentle-hearted friend,

to whom the present rhyme is soon to go

so that I may their written answer know,

greetings in Love's own name, their lord, I send.

The third hour of the time was near at end

when every star in heaven is aglow:

'twas then Love came before me, dreadful so

that my remembrance is with horror rent.

Joyous appeared he in his hand to keep

my very heart, and, lying on his breast,

my lady, veil-enwrapped and full asleep.

But he awakened her, and of my heart,

aflame, he humbly made her, fearful, taste:

I saw him, finally, in tears depart."


End file.
